Tag Archives: Paranormal

plink…plinkety…plink… Trevor woke to the sounds of plastic guitar strings. The almost full moon was giving enough light in the room, now, that he could see the toy guitar, there on the end of the bed. It was playing the notes with unseen hands.

Without taking his eyes off it, he shook Zach awake. “Didn’t you take that toy out earlier?”

“What…uh…yeah…I threw it away.”

“Well, look, it’s back in here. Do you hear that music, or is it just me?” Trevor asked.

“I hear it,” Zach said, sitting up in the bed. “Did you bring it back in?”

“Uh-uh…the house did,” Trevor said.

They watched it a few more seconds, then Zach kicked out his foot, and sent the toy flying off the bed. It crashed into the wall, breaking apart…again.

“There, take that…and don’t come back,” Trevor shouted.

Zach clutched Trevor’s arm. “What is it? What’s that sound, Trev?” He turned his head to look around the room, into all the dark corners, but didn’t see anything.

Trevor listened…”It…it’s…it’s growling at us…the house is growling at us, Zach.”

The low grumbling, growling sound shook their insides, like the beat of a bass guitar on high volume.

Grabbing a blanket, as they eased out of the bed, they tried to go quickly around the vines, snaking around the floor. As soon as they reached the bedroom door, they took off running, all the way outside, and out to the car. They jumped in, locking the doors.

Zach rolled down the window a little bit, and yelled at the house. “That was crazy, you stupid house…we’re not scared…just need some sleep.”

He looked at Trevor, then, and they both burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all. Then they tried to get comfortable in the car, one in the back seat, one in the front seat, until they finally did fall asleep. The rest of the night remained quiet.

~

They were still asleep, the next morning, when Ghost walked up to their car and knocked on the window.

“Hey, in there,” he hollered at them.

He’d been on his way to the cemetery, when he had the idea to drop by the Violin Road house. That’s when he saw Zach and Trevor asleep in the car.

“Hey, guys…wake up” Ghost kept knocking on the window. He was bent down, peering in at them.

When Trevor opened his eyes, all he saw was a pale face, with frizzed out hair staring in at him. He screamed.

“What is it?” Zach asked, coming awake, not sure if it was real, or if he was still dreaming about monsters. He finally realized he was seeing Ghost, and not some evil house spook.

Ghost laughed, and moved back, waiting for them to open the car door.

“Trevor, it’s just Ghost, that’s all. Let’s get out.” Zach scrambled to unlock the door, and he and Trevor got out.

“Dude, you scared the shit out of us,” Zach said, still shaking a bit. “What are you doing out here?”

Ghost was grinning, “Sorry, I was on my way to the cemetery, and wanted to come see ya.”

“Hey, were you and Steve out here snooping around my house?” Trevor asked.

“Yeah, we wanted to talk to y’all, but you weren’t here. I kinda needed to get a feel for the house, ya know…before the séance. It was really hard to find this place.” Ghost looked around the area, seeing again the vine covered house. “This place feels creepy,” he said, as a matter of fact.

“Look at my hair, it’s full of electricity, all standing out, and sparkly, and tingly. Are y’all’s doing that?” Ghost asked.

Trevor shook his head. “No, I don’t feel anything, do you Zach?”

“Not right now, but I did earlier…and a time or two before that. What’s causing it, ya think?” Zach wondered.

Trevor thought for a minute. “Maybe because both of you are like outsiders? Maybe the house doesn’t like anyone that’s not my original family?”

“That makes sense, I guess,” Zach said, “and Ghost is psychic, so it is doubly mad, trying to warn you and me away.”

Ghost stared wide-eyed at the house, then back to Zach and Trevor.

“You gonna back out now, Ghost?” Trevor asked.

“No, it makes me want to do it more. I’m not saying I know what to do, ya know; I’ve never done anything like it, before. But, I still want to try…if y’all still want to,” Ghost said.

“Yes,” Trevor said.

“Definitely,” Zach agreed.

Ghost was nodding, “Okay, well, Steve and I was wanting to do it soon. He’ll tell ya when, ’cause I don’t really know days and stuff, so he’ll talk to you at the show, ok?”

Zach looked confused. “You don’t know days?”

“Yeah, so I can’t say when, but now I gotta go see my grandmother at the graveyard. She might have something to tell me, and I go out there every Halloween…well, other times, too, but now I gotta go.” He turned and started walking away.

“Bye?” Zach said, still confused, as he watched Ghost walk off down the road. He shook his head, trying to clear it, then asked Trevor, “What the hell was he talking about? Seems like he always talks in some sort of code, or riddles, or something. It’s like he says a lot of words, but you still don’t know what he’s saying.”

Trevor shrugged, “I have no idea,” he said. But his eyes were lit up, and he was smiling, as he watched Ghost leave. It was a look that said he’d really like to get to know Ghost a lot better.

Zach saw it too. “You still have a crush on him, don’t you?”

“Huh? No, well he’s interesting. Maybe I could put him in one of my comics or something,” Trevor said.

“Or something…” Zach said, shaking his head. “Let’s go in. We can’t stay out here in the car forever, and we need our stuff to get ready for tonight.”

They walked back around to the back door of the house, holding hands. “Are you mad at me?” Trevor asked.

“No, not really…and you’re right, Ghost is interesting,” Zach smiled.

They went inside, a little hesitant to find out if the house had done any more mischief. They tried the lights and water again, and all was working fine. Going into the bedroom, however, was another story. Zach saw it first.

“Hey, Trevor, come look at this.”

Trevor joined him there at the bedroom door. “Son of a bitch!”

This startled Zach, as Trevor hardly ever got riled up enough to curse. “Careful, Trev…” he said, as he held up his arm to prevent Trevor from charging into the room, without checking things out further.

The vine covered wall seemed to have exploded into the room. There were leaves and tendrils everywhere, snaking across the floor, and over the dresser, along the perimeter of the room, up by the ceiling, and hanging from the light fixture. But the focal point had to be the bed. There, right in the middle of it, was an intricately woven nest of leaves, on which the toy guitar lay, not broken at all, now.

“That’s it…I’ve had enough,” Trevor said. “We’re not staying here another day. Get your stuff, Zach.” He turned from the door, stumbling off into the living room, brushing at his eyes. Zach followed.

“Trev, wait, it’ll be ok.” He was getting alarmed, because Trevor was crying, but trying not to.

“Why…why did I ever come back here?”

Zach put his arm around Trevor. “You had to find out,” he said.

“Yeah, I had to find out. And, what good did it do…none. You’re right, this house is evil. It’s trapped us in it’s spell, and I think it was evil even before my dad killed everyone. It made him do it. Oh, I know he was an alcoholic, and an abuser before then; even when I was a kid, I knew that. But everything got worse, when we came to this evil house,” he shouted.

He stomped off to the kitchen, grabbed a butcher knife from the drawer, and started slashing at the vines in the bedroom. He went at them in a blind rage.

“Trevor, stop…it won’t help,” Zach said.

“I don’t care, it makes me feel better to hurt it. I want to kill, I want to kill the vines, the house…like it killed my family.” He kept slashing.

Zach wasn’t able to get close, to stop him, afraid he’d get slashed, too.

This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.

All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative license is taken in including them in this story.

No harm is intended toward author, musicians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblance.

warning warning warning warning

The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.

Halloween day dawned crisp and clear. The trees were bursting with orange, red, and yellow leaves; it was a perfect Autumn day in North Carolina, the freak blizzard almost forgotten by now. Ghost was out on the porch, as was usual, to greet the morning, and Spirit was chasing falling leaves. Steve came outside to join them.

“Naw, you go on,” Steve said, “I’m going to go see if I can do some things over in the studio. That is if Terry will let me in there.”

“How long will you be there?”

“I’ll be back here later, then we’ll get ready to go to the club,” Steve said. He was finished with his coffee, so went back inside.

Ghost came in, too, and grabbed his backpack, a couple of granola bars, and a bottle of water. “Guess I’ll go on out there, then,” he said. “See ya later. He went out the back door, heading down the path. He planned on going to the main cemetery first, then coming back to the one behind their house, afterwards. It was a nice long walk out there, but he was used to it.

Steve fed the cat, got himself some cereal for his breakfast, then left the house, heading for Terry’s studio, in town.

~

Over in Missing Mile, Kinsey was up early, too. He had lots of chores to do, before the doors opened later that evening. The bar was stocked, already, and on his list was floor mopping, and making the food for the hungry customers. He figured he’d need more than usual for the crowd he expected. He got chicken on to boil, for homemade chicken noodle soup, and as a nod to Halloween, he would make deviled ham sandwiches, figuring all that would satisfy everyone.

He was looking forward to seeing the crazy costumes people would wear. As for himself, he would wear black, and he’d found some orange suspenders, to which he’d pinned round buttons, with Halloween pictures on them.

~

Out on old Violin Road, Zach and Trevor had had another weird night in the murder house. As they’d gotten home, that night, they could tell someone had been up to their house, as there were car tire tracks, and more weeds than usual were mashed down in the road.

Trevor was frowning. It was dark out, but he noticed right away, as the car’s headlights shone across the yard. “Zach, did you see all that? Somebody’s been here. Who’d be coming all the way out here?”

Zach shrugged, “I don’t know, but I can guess…Steve and Ghost. I wouldn’t put it past them to come snooping around.”

“Well, we weren’t here, so guess they left. We’ll see them tomorrow night, anyway,” Trevor said.

“Yeah, but I don’t like it.”

“Did ya forget…we snooped around their house too, that time, so guess we’re even, now,” Trevor rationalized.

They got out and went around back, to go inside the house. Zach flipped the light switch, but nothing happened. “I figured as much…the house didn’t like it either…now we’re in for trouble.” He went into the kitchen to check if they had water. The faucet chugged a bit, then dribbled out a brownish sludge. “Great,” he said.

“Well, we can light a candle, or we can go on to bed,” Trevor said. “We have a lot of stuff to do to, tomorrow, to get ready for the show, so I’m going to bed…try to get some sleep.”

Zach agreed, and found a candle to light, carrying it into the bedroom, then setting it on the nightstand, so there would be a little light in there. The dark shadows it cast, flickered and seemed to writhe on the walls. The overgrown vines, twining all around the room, rustled a bit. They were used to them, now. They’d tried to chop them down a few times, at least to clear the bedroom out, but the deep green vines would just grow back. Still sometimes, they would release an artifact from Trevor’s childhood, that had been eaten up long ago.

Tonight was no different. Lying among the leaves, was Trevor’s toy guitar he’d had when he lived here as a child…before the murder of his family. Trevor gagged when he saw it, and he definitely didn’t want to touch it. The leaves rustled again, to get his attention.

“Are you gonna get it?” Zach asked, as he stared at the toy.

“No, you know what happens when I pick something up,” Trevor said.

Zach did know. Trevor would have violent nightmares. “I’ll get it, then, and throw it out.” He grabbed the small guitar, and pulled. Tendrils of vines twined around the neck of the toy, looking like it was choking it.

“Let it go,” Zach demanded, and pulled harder. “Let it go, or I’ll chop ya down.” The tug of war between Zach and the vines continued for another minute, then in one quick movement, the vine let go, and Zach fell backwards onto the floor. He had the toy in his hands. “Ha…I got it,” he hollered, then took it out the back door, tossing it into the trash barrel.

When he returned, Trevor was already in bed, staring at the ceiling.

“You okay?” Zach asked.

“Yeah, just so tired of the tension in here. It’s stupid to be fighting a house.”

“I know, and as soon as Ghost gets over here and clears out the bad stuff, the better,” Zach said. “Let’s tell them they should come over, day after tomorrow, ok?”

“Sounds good to me.” Trevor said. He blew out the candle, and they both drifted off to an uneasy sleep.

A short time later, though, Zach woke up, shaking his hands, and hollering. “They’re burning…Trevor…my hands…they’re on fire.”

It was totally dark in the room, now, so they couldn’t see Zach’s hands at all. “I feel like they’re on fire…I need to see, Trevor…hurry.”

Trevor reached over to the nightstand, fumbling for the candle and lighter. He managed to get it lit, even as his own hands were shaking. “Hold still, Zach, let me see your hands…quit flapping around.”

Zach was gritting his teeth, and whining, as he held out his hands close to the candle flame. They both looked close, but couldn’t see anything that could be causing the burning sensation.

“I don’t see anything, Zach. Maybe it’s just a reaction from touching the guitar,” Trevor said.

“I need to cool them off, and we don’t have any water,” Zach said. “Was there any left in the cooler, or the refrigerator…maybe it’s still cold?”

“I’ll go check, stay here, I’ll be right back,” Trevor said. He left Zach there in the dark bedroom, taking the candle with him. In the cooler, he did find a bottle of water. He got a dishrag, too, and brought them back to Zach. “Here, put this on your hands. It’s all I could find.”

As Zach put the wet cloths on his hands, he stared hard at Trevor. “That’s better, but Trev, I’m tired of us getting hurt out here. I don’t know if this evil house stuff is real, or just in our heads, but really…can’t you let this place go? Just go somewhere else to live…leave it, or tear it down?”

Trevor breathed in, letting it out slow. “Zach, we talked about this, before.”

“But this stuff keeps happening over and over. It’s like we’re in a time loop of the past, or something. Please think about it…for our own safety and sanity,” Zach pleaded.

Trevor took a moment before answering. “I want to try this last thing…see if Ghost can do something to help. If that doesn’t work, then I’ll do it. I’ll have it torn down, and we can live somewhere else. I’ll do it because I love you, Zach, and I want you to be safe, and not scared.” He paused for a second, “I already kind of found out why my father didn’t kill me, along with my mother and little brother, so I promise you, I’ll do it.” He took Zach’s hands, looking at them. “Are they any better, now?”

“Yeah, guess so…and thank you, Trevor. I know this whole house business is hard for you, but…just thank you.” He pulled Trevor in for a kiss. “I’m going to try to go back to sleep, now.”

This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.

All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative license is taken in including them in this story.

No harm is intended toward author, musicians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblance.

warning warning warning warning

The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.

After they’d snooped around the murder house, Steve drove down the main street of town. Zach’s car was parked in front of the Yew. “There’s where they are,” he said, but they didn’t stop. At home they ate supper and just relaxed, while watching a movie. It had been a long and crazy day.

~

At the club, Zach, Terry, R. J. and Calvin, practiced their songs, while Trevor was their main audience. A few of the regular weekday crowd were in, for games and beer, as the club kids never came, until the weekend or on special occasions.

When the band took a short break, Kinsey caught Zach’s eye, motioning him over.

“Hey, Kinsey, what’s up?” Zach asked, as he grabbed a cold beer at the bar.

“First, I want y’all here by seven, tomorrow night,” Kinsey said. “It’s gonna get crowded fast, and I want y’all ready for the show, on time, at nine.”

Zach nodded, “Sure thing, we’ll be ready.”

“Another thing,” Kinsey said, “I heard from Ghost and Steve, today. They mentioned something about a séance y’all are having out at your place? What’s going on?”

“Oh, yeah,” Zach grinned, “Ghost said he’d try and clear out the house. We’ve been having some weird shit going on, lately. We just thought it might help.” He took a long drink of his beer.

“Zach, that’s not a good idea…messing around with that. I don’t know what all has been happening out there, but leave it alone. You don’t need to be involving Ghost and Steve,” Kinsey said. He shook his head, sighing. “They aren’t miracle workers, ya know.”

Kinsey narrowed his eyes, and clenched his jaw, hearing this. “Listen, Zach…don’t be telling me to ‘chill out’. I don’t go for rudeness. Maybe that’s ‘cool’ where you’re from, but not here, not to me, and not in my club…got it?”

Kinsey had a soft spot for all kinds of kids, but he wouldn’t put up with any guff from any of them. Most learned quickly, how far they could take it. Zach just needed a little more ‘learning’.

“Sorry, Kinsey,” Zach said, “I didn’t mean anything bad, just forgot my manners for a second. Forgive me?” he looked at Kinsey, a small smile on his lips.

“Yeah, sure, Zach…but really, think about what I said. It’s dangerous business, and I just want y’all to be safe, ok?”

Yeah, I’ll talk it over with Trev. It was his idea, anyway. It’s his house, his family…”

“What kind of things are going on out there, that you’d need a ghost buster?”

Zach sighed, shaking his head, “Just crazy stuff, like the lights going on and off, the water either not working, or turning muddy…oh, and Trev’s drawings getting shredded. It’s been going on for awhile. We tried to do something one time, ya know, to find out what was making it do that. We both nearly died…or at least the house made us think so.”

“Ok, that’s enough,” Kinsey said. “I want y’all out of there, now. You can stay here. Get rid of that place, bulldoze it, just leave it alone.”

“I’m gonna try to persuade Trevor, but I brought it up before, and he wouldn’t hear of it. And, guess wherever he is, I’m there, too. If I can protect him, I will.”

“I’ll talk to him, too,” Kinsey said.

“Well, let me try first, okay?” He looked over to the stage. “Oh, they’re calling me back up there…gotta go. Thanks for the beer.”

Kinsey was worried, but what else could he do? He figured they were grown-ups, and they could do whatever they wanted. He shrugged, and went back to work. Every one of these guys are like my own kids, no matter how old they are. I just hope the things they get into won’t hurt them. He could hear the band start up again. He thought they sounded good, and he knew the kids liked them, but it wasn’t his type of music to listen to, if he had the choice. It was kind of hard on his ears. He preferred Lost Souls? type of music, more laid back, and he could understand the words. Oh well, whatever brings in the customers…

After awhile, the guys called it a night, and began packing up to leave. Terry came over to get a cold beer, and to talk. “How’d it sound?” he asked Kinsey.

Kinsey shrugged, “Sounded good, I guess. I still don’t get it, though.”

“I know, and even if I don’t get it, it sounded good…and loud. It’s gonna be a madhouse here tomorrow, ya know.”

“Yeah, I hope so, and I can’t wait,” Terry said.

Then, Kinsey brought up the subject of the séance. “Did ya hear the latest?”

“The latest what?”

“That séance the guys are planning out at Trevor’s house.”

Terry frowned, “What?”

“Yeah, seems they asked Ghost to do a séance, and chase away bad spirits, or something like that,” Kinsey said.

“When are they planning on doing it?”

“In a couple of days, or nights…or I don’t know. Zach said it was just for fun, but Trevor was serious about it…said some weird things were going on out there.” Kinsey got them both another beer. “And, you know Ghost, he’s all about helping out. I get the feeling they’re all a bit scared, but are doing it, anyway.”

“Damn, that could get a little crazy out there,” Terry said. He thought about it a minute. “Hmm…wonder if they need a couple more participants?” he pointed to himself and to Kinsey, smiling.

“Huh?” Kinsey frowned. “What…you want to go out there…you want us to go out there?” He was shaking his head.

“Wait, wait…sounds farfetched and all…and we’re both skeptics, but at least we could be there to keep things in line…rein ’em in if we need to…or even put a stop to it, if it gets too hairy, ya know?” Terry said. “Besides, aren’t you curious to actually see what, if anything, happens?”

“Terry, you’re talking crazy, now. I know we don’t believe that crap…except for Ghost, but it still spooks me to think of going in that house. If anything’s true, it’s that house had bad stuff stuck in there. No way you’re getting me to go along out there. Uh-uh…”

Kinsey started turning out the lights and locking up the club. Everyone had left by now. Upstairs in his apartment, Kinsey tried to forget the talk he and Terry had had. He agreed on one thing Terry had pointed out. If things did go bad, at least there’d be two rational people there to set things straight. The more he thought about it, maybe he should go. Damn, Terry was right…I have changed my mind.

This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.

All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative license is taken in including them in this story.

No harm is intended toward author, musicians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblance.

warning warning warning warning

The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.

Stopping back by Kinsey’s office, they told him they were heading home.

“Kinsey don’t want you to mess around with a seance over at Zack and Trevor’s house,” Steve said, as they walked down to the Whirling Disk to get their car.

“You told him about all that?” asked Ghost.

“Yeah, ’cause I don’t like it either,” Steve said. He’d stopped walking, to look at Ghost, hoping to make him see how dangerous it would be. “Look how it’s already messing with you, Ghost.”

“But, I already said I would.”

“Well, just tell them you can’t, after all…tell them you changed your mind, or that it might make things worse over there, if we did the séance. Tell them anything, just call it off.”

Ghost was shaking his head, as they got back in the car. “No, I won’t do that. I’ll go there by myself, if you don’t want to, but I’m doing what I said I’d do. It’ll be ok, Steve.”

Steve sighed, closing his eyes, as he gripped the steering wheel. “Okay, but I’m still gonna keep bugging ya about it.”

“I know,” Ghost said. “Hey, let’s drive by there now, just to see what it looks like in the daylight. It’s been a long time since I even saw the house.”

“Well, ok…guess that wouldn’t hurt,” Steve said. He started the car, and they drove out to Violin Road.

Driving slowly along the highway, they saw the dilapidated old houses, one after another. None were close together, but all were run down, sad excuses for houses. Some were empty, some had rusting cars out on the weedy lots, and the ones that were still occupied, had a scattering of kid’s toys out in the scraggly yards.

“This area depresses me, Ghost,” Steve said, “and I used to live out here when I was a kid.”

“Was it this bad, back then?”

“Probably not, but what did I know…I was just a kid.”

Ghost stared out the car window, sensing the many years of neglect and despair still hanging on. “That murder…did that happen when you were living out here?” he asked Steve.

Steve frowned, “I think so, but I don’t remember much about it. Just later on, when we’d all go sneaking in there to get ourselves scared. So, Trevor was just a little kid, when it happened. They must have put him in an orphanage, after all that happened.”

“Yeah, and now he’s come back to live in that house, and the spirits of his family are still trapped there.” Ghost shivered. “That’s what’s scaring them now, I guess…their spirits.”

They kept driving, not completely sure which house it was, now, just hoping something would look a little familiar.

“Are we too far out, or what…did we miss it?” Steve asked.

“Go a little farther down…I’m getting a funny feeling,” Ghost said.

Steve glanced over, “Funny?”

“”Yeah, but not funny, you know…”

They kept driving, and soon ran out of any houses at all, just seeing farmland pastures.

Ghost managed to reach out and grab Steve’s arm, which made Steve startle and yelp.

“No, stop…wait,” Ghost choked out.

Steve glared at him, “Are you messin’ with me, Dude, ’cause it aint’ funny,” he said.

“Oh, Steve…stop…I can’t take any more,” Ghost cackled. “Your eyes, your face…you look so scared, your hair’s gonna turn white. Oh my God…I need some air,” Ghost said, as he opened the car door, and got out. He didn’t realize how completely weak from laughter and adrenaline he was, so as he stepped on the ground, his knees gave out. He fell face down, on the ground by the car.

Steve stared in disbelief. He cut the engine off, then jumped out, hopping around to the other side of the car, to see about Ghost.

“Ghost, what in the world has got into you?”

Ghost rolled over, holding his stomach, sore from laughing, as he tried to get control of himself, but the giggles kept coming.

“Just the way you said ‘how do they get in, when you can’t even see a door’…and then…then I imagined them having to use a machete every time they went in or out…and then…you…you all scared looking,” Ghost explained.

“Yeah, ’cause of how you were acting…I thought them haints done got ‘cha,” Steve said, ignoring what Ghost had said about him being scared.

“Sorry, it was just funny,” Ghost said. He’d calmed down now. “But, really, all this build up, and tension on me…I guess I just had to get it out.”

“Well, ok, then…you done? You had enough, so we can go home, now? If they come home and find us snooping, it won’t be good.”

“Yeah, but I want to go look around the back, first,” Ghost said.

“Uh-uh..no way,” Steve shook his head.

“Yeah, just for a minute,” Ghost said. He began walking over to the house, then around the side of the vine covered house. Steve followed.

“Hey, look at this,” Ghost said, as they came to the back yard. There was a vine covered arbor, and a cleared path to the back door. “Guess this is how they get in.”

Yeah, looks like it, but it’s still not funny. Can we get out of here, now?” Steve asked.

“Ok, let’s go. I got a feel for what I’ll be dealing with at the séance, at least a little,” Ghost said.

They got back in the car, heading down the highway for their own house.

This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.

All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative license is taken in including them in this story.

No harm is intended toward author, musicians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblance.

warning warning warning warning

The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.

Steve came into the bedroom to check on Ghost. Sitting down on the bed, he smiled, as he watched Ghost waking up, stretching and yawning.

“Hey, how ya feeling?” Steve asked.

“Um, okay…why’d ya let me sleep so long?”

“It hasn’t been that long, just an hour or so.”

Ghost frowned, “Huh? I slept all night, I think.” He rolled over, sitting up next to Steve. Reaching down, he picked up Spirit to cuddle.

“What? You were up way earlier, don’t you remember?”

Ghost thought for a minute, “No, when was that?”

Steve was getting worried. Ghost didn’t remember waking and getting up earlier, and that was unusual. He always remembered what happened before having one of his spells.

“Ghost…you really don’t remember? You got up early and made me coffee. You woke me up and then went outside with the cat. Then you had a seizure, and was sick all over the porch. When it was over, I helped you back to bed,” Steve explained.

Ghost shook his head, trying to remember. “No, I don’t remember any of that. I had a bad dream, though. I was scared of a big red dragon thing that bit me in the face.” He turned his face to Steve, so he could check it for marks. “Do you see anything?”

“No, it was.just a dream, I guess, but the other stuff you did was real.”

Steve was still concerned, but smiled and said, “Well, guess what….I made some for you. Come on in the kitchen.” He stood, pulling Ghost up, too, got his crutches, and they made their way to the kitchen. He proudly showed Ghost the pancakes he’d made.

“You did this…you cooked?” Ghost asked, totally surprised.

“Yeah, and I cleaned up the mess I made, too.”

“Get me a plate, I’ll go wash up,” Ghost said.

Steve warmed up the food, and had it ready on the table, when Ghost returned. “Dig in, Dude…I already ate.”

Ghost did, and ate all that was there. Steve watched, and waited in anticipation of what Ghost would say about his cooking ability. He wasn’t disappointed, when Ghost complimented him on how good they were.

“That was so good, Steve, thank you for fixing them for me.” He gave Steve a quick, sticky kiss.

“No problem…maybe I’ll do it again sometime,” Steve laughed.

They got more coffee, taking it out to the living room. Making themselves comfortable on the couch, Ghost asked, “What are we doing today?”

“Well, I thought we were going to go into town to do some more recording, that is if Terry wants to open up the studio today. And, we can go by and see Kinsey…see how it’s coming along for the party tomorrow night,” Steve said.

“Sure, let’s do that, and you still have to figure out a way to do a costume, or decorate your crutches, or something…oh, and I have to go to the graveyards, like I always do,” Ghost said.

“That’ll be for tomorrow, though, on actual Halloween, right?”

“Oh, yeah, tomorrow?” Ghost asked.

“Mm-hmm, but for now, go get dressed, so we can go into town.”

~

When they got to the Whirling Disc record shop, though, it was closed.

They walked down the block to the Yew. Pushing open the front door of the club, Steve hollered out for Kinsey.

“Back here, guys,” Kinsey hollered back, from his office.

They walked down the dimly lit hallway, to the office, pushing open the door.

“Come on in…just doing some bookkeeping this afternoon,” Kinsey said, looking up from his paperwork. “What’s brought y’all into town?”

“We were going to record some stuff over at Terry’s, but he’s not home, and the shop is closed. Do you know where he is?” Steve asked.

Kinsey leaned back in his chair, massaging his neck. “Oh, yeah…I heard him mention he was going to go find a costume for tomorrow night. Guess he went over to Raleigh. He’ll be back later, I imagine…he and the others are supposed to do a rehearsal for the show.”

“Oh, well what time does the shin-dig kick off, tomorrow?” Steve asked.

“Around nine…I expect lots of people will be going out for trick-or-treating, or taking little ones around…or causing mischief, before coming in here.” Kinsey laughed. “Y’all coming, aren’t ya?”

Steve nodded, “Yep, me and Ghost will be here, for sure. Ghost has his costume planned out, but with these…” he jiggled the crutches, “don’t know how much I can do.”

“How much longer until that cast comes off?” Kinsey asked.

“A couple more weeks, I think,” Steve sighed. “I’m ready to get rid of it, for sure.”

“Guess he’s out there writing on the wall. I’ll go find him in a minute,” Steve said. He looked down, shaking his head. “He had another spell, this morning. It was pretty bad.”

“Damn, he okay, now?”

“I think so, but this time he didn’t remember anything about it. Didn’t even remember that he’d been awake earlier, or what he’d been doing. I made him go back to bed, then when he woke up, he thought it was the first time he’d been up.” He frowned, biting his bottom lip. “It worries me, ya know.”

“Well, the other night, Zach and Trevor came over to the house. They asked if Ghost could help them get rid of the evil spirits at their house, because they’re scared.”

Kinsey held up a hand, “Wait a minute…they think there’s evil spirits over there in the murder house?”

“Yeah, I guess so, anyway, Ghost said he’d try to help, by doing a séance…you know, where you call down the spirits, and I don’t know…tell ’em to get lost. So that’s what we’re gonna do, probably in a couple of days…well, after Halloween and all,” Steve said.

“But, here’s the thing, Kinsey…all this talking and planning for it, is getting to Ghost, big time. He’s having nightmares, and weird visions, and we even went to some magic shop over in Raleigh. He got a bunch of potions, and instructions on how to do one, and words to say,” Steve sighed. “I’m just going along with it, ya know, to try and keep Ghost from completely losing it over there.”

Kinsey was shaking his head, “Uh-uh…don’t y’all be messing around with that shit, Steve. I don’t know if it’s for real, or not, but it sounds dangerous. I’ve heard stories…”

“I know, Kinsey, but I can’t make him stop. He won’t listen to me.”

“Well, you better try harder…that’s all I’m saying.”

“I’ll keep at it, but you know how he is. Anyway, guess I better go find him out there” He went out to the hallway, and over into the club.

“Ghost, where’d ya go?” he hollered. He spotted him, over by the wall, doing some writing. “You ready to go home?” he asked.

He frowned, when he saw what Ghost had drawn. “What the hell is that, it’s ugly.”

Ghost looked up, “This is what I saw in my dream, or vision, or whatever it was,” he said, stepping back.

“It looks evil, Ghost.”

“I know…and it’s waiting for me to call him, at the séance…but I’m not going to.”

“You better not; it looks like it wants to eat us.” Steve made a face.

This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.

All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative license is taken in including them in this story.

No harm is intended toward author, musicians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblance.

warning warning warning warning

The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.

When they returned home, Ghost looked over his instructions for the séance, a few more times. Steve made them some hot cocoa, and they relaxed on the couch.

“I’m calling them tomorrow,” Steve said. “I think you’re ready, and I want to get this over with.”

“Okay, but we can’t do it on Halloween, because of their show. I’m thinking maybe later, maybe after,” Ghost said.

“Oh, yeah, you’re right. I guess tomorrow is out. They’ll be rehearsing, then the gig, then the next day they’ll be sleeping and recovering from the party. Guess the next day after that would work,” Steve said.

“Are we gonna do more recording in the morning?”

“We might as well, if Terry is up for it.”

“Sounds good,” Ghost said. “I’m done with this for now.” He handed Steve the instruction page. “I’m going to bed.” He took his mug of cocoa, called to Spirit, and went to his room.

Steve locked up the house, and turned off the lights, but checked in on Ghost, before heading to his own room. He saw that Ghost was writing on the wall, while Spirit was on the bed, watching him. He said good-night, figuring that the next few days would be intense, and they needed all the rest they could get.

~

The next morning had dawned cloudy and drizzly. Ghost woke first, then made coffee and fed the cat. He brought a mug of the coffee to Steve, to wake him up. Setting it on the nightstand, he knelt beside Steve. His breath caught in his throat, at how much he loved Steve. I’m so lucky to have him love me back.

He leaned over, kissing Steve lightly. Steve stirred, cracking open his eyes, to see Ghost’s face staring at him, and his coffee breath tickling his nose.

“I brought ya coffee.” Ghost said.

Steve smiled, reached up to bring Ghost in for a kiss. “Thanks for the coffee and the kiss, Ghost. I’m awake, now.” He wiggled up in the bed, while Ghost plumped the pillows behind him.

“I’m going out on the porch for awhile. I’ll make some pancakes when I get back,” Ghost said, as he went to get himself another cup of coffee. He and Spirit went out to sit on the swing.

It was chilly and damp, and the blanket Ghost had brought out with him, felt good. He rocked back and forth on the swing, trying to clear his mind. His dreams of the night had left him with an uneasy feeling. Nothing specific, but he could sense a tension building up. He didn’t know if anything would come through, if he relaxed his thoughts, but he tried anyway.

He closed his eyes, letting the steam from the cup of coffee, bathe his face in the rising steam. Inhaling the rich aroma, helped him enter a drifty kind of sensation, normally a good place to be, when he received visions.

Behind his eyes he began to see a swirl of colors, making him a bit dizzy. Just as he thought he could make out a form, a gust of wind blew a spattering of drizzle onto his face. It surprised him; it felt like sharp needles on his warm face. In the second it took for him to feel this, and open his eyes, he glimpsed the form. It was not good; it was barely recognizable as a face…made entirely of red lumpy stuff, and a gaping mouth of sharp teeth. They snapped at him. That was when the cold needle-like drizzle had slapped his face.

He gasped, and reflexively threw his mug of coffee at this image. It spilled and shattered on the porch. Ghost screamed, and Spirit yowled at the sudden noise. Ghost’s eyes were wide, as he darted looks all around. He was breathing fast, as his panic rose.

He could feel himself going into a seizure, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. This was at least familiar, if not enjoyable. In one part of his mind, he knew he’d come out of it, but the other part was terrified that he wouldn’t. He tried calling out to Steve, but could only manage a keening moan.

Spirit was scrabbling at the screen door, climbing up, still yowling. Steve heard the commotion, and came as fast as he could, hopping on one leg, to see what was going on. He saw the cat, halfway up the screen, it’s claws dug in, as he pushed open the door. He reached Ghost, and immediately knew he was having what he called ‘one of his spells’.

Ghost was shaking uncontrollably now, and Steve wrapped the blanket tighter, putting his arms around Ghost. He held on, crooning soothing words and sounds, humming a calming tune…anything to help Ghost come out of it. After a few minutes, it was over. The shaking slowed to only a shudder, off and on. Ghost was silent, exhausted, and sweaty.

Ghost put his head in Steve’s lap, while Steve rubbed his temples, and forehead, brushing his hair back. “Ghost, can you hear me? You’re gonna be ok; it’s over. I know it was scary, but you’ve been through this before. It’s ok, now. Ghost?” Steve kept on, until Ghost was responding a bit.

“Steve?” Ghost whispered. “Are you here?”

“Yeah, I’m here…are you feeling better?”

“No…my head hurts, and I can’t hardly see you…and I feel sick.” He began to swallow hard, and Steve had just enough time to turn Ghost’s head to the side, before he threw up, onto the porch. He didn’t know two cups of coffee could produce so much liquid when it came back up. Again and again Ghost heaved, until there was no more left. Then he cried.

“I’m sorry, Steve, I’m sorry…”

“Ghost, it’s okay, don’t worry about it. Come on, can you walk? I want you to get in bed for awhile.”

Ghost nodded, ” Hold my hand, I can’t see where I’m going, yet.”

They managed to get off the swing, and stumble into the house. The cat had gotten himself down from the screen, and came inside with them. Steve helped Ghost into the bed, pulling the blankets close around him.

“Try to sleep, you’ll feel better when you wake up.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Ghost murmured, already half asleep.

Steve sat and watched him for awhile, making sure he was still breathing. The he went into the kitchen. Guess I don’t get pancakes, now, unless I make some, myself… He hated that he’d had that thought. Slamming his fist down on the table, he sank down into a chair, and put his head down onto his arms. Tears of frustration dampened his sleeves. He wanted so bad to fix Ghost, but there was no way. All he could do was be here for him…and that never felt like enough.

This is getting to be too much…already bad things are happening to Ghost… He knew, though, that if he tried to make Ghost call it off, that he’d try even harder to make it happen. He never gave up on anything, once he made up his mind.

Getting up to check on Ghost, again, he saw he was sound asleep, the cat right next to him. “You keep an eye on him, Spirit. Let me know if Ghost needs me, ok?”

He decided to try making pancakes, himself. He knew Ghost would be starving, when he woke up. He stood there in the kitchen, trying to remember what Ghost used to make them. After gathering the ingredients, and a bowl, he stirred up the batter. Hmm…this isn’t so hard… He took one of the finished ones off the skillet, tasting it. “Not bad…” he smiled. He began to get into the cooking process, trying his hand at flipping them in the air. He caught one back in the pan…a few more fell in the floor. “Guess it takes practice,” he said.

He continued, until he had a huge stack ready. He fixed himself a plate of them, drizzled with maple syrup. Looking around the kitchen, he noticed that he’d almost destroyed the place. He sighed, and began the clean-up. As he finished, Spirit came into the kitchen, meowing.

“Hey, kitty, ya hungry?” He gave the cat a dish of cat food, but Spirit went back to the bedroom.

“Oh, is Ghost waking up…you came to get me?” He followed the cat down the hallway to Ghost’s bed

This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.

All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative license is taken in including them in this story.

No harm is intended toward author, musicians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblance.

warning warning warning warning

The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.

It didn’t matter where or when Steve and Ghost sang their songs to each other, they were filled with emotion. This one was no different, as they alternated singing the verses, and coming in together on the chorus.

Terry was blown away, hearing this one. In all the years he’d been listening to them sing, and having performed with them, jammed with them, been their friend, this one song seemed to make it clear to him. For the first time, he got it. He understood what their songs were all about…how every song written by them, and all the song covers they did…all were a piece of the puzzle…a puzzle he didn’t even know existed, until this moment.

Terry closed his eyes, as the realization hit him. They’d finished singing, and were waiting for him to say something, but he was overcome with the shock of his own reaction. His heart and emotions were touched as never before, and he couldn’t deny them. He, Terry, the laid back stoner dude, who was all about peace and love, had just been given the true meaning of what real love was. He couldn’t hold back any longer. He let his feelings wash over him, and he cried. From under his closed eyelids, the tears fell down his face. He put his head down on the desk, as sobs racked his body.

He realized he had never, and probably would never, have anything near what Steve and Ghost had, together. Through all their bad times, and good…nothing would, or could ever break them apart. He cried for his own loss, of never knowing this for himself.

Steve and Ghost stared at Terry through the glass window. “What’s the matter with Terry, Steve?” Ghost asked.

“I don’t know, but…” Steve said, as he hurried out of the booth, to see about him.

Ghost followed, scared that Terry had been electrocuted or something.

“Terry, what is it? Are you okay, do you need a doctor?” Steve asked, putting his arm around Terry’s shaking shoulders.

Ghost knelt on the floor on the other side of Terry, looking up to his face. He took his hand, squeezing it. “Come here, Terry. It’s ok, let us help you.”

This was almost too much for Terry. He tried to get control of himself, then he grabbed Ghost, with one arm around his neck, and Steve with the other arm, and hugged them to himself, kissing both their cheeks.

“I love you guys, so much,” he finally got out. He sniffled and wiped his face. “That song really got to me,” he said. “I never put it together until now. All the songs y’all do…there’s a reason, a pattern, something special y’all are saying to each other, right?”

Ghost and Steve both smiled, as they looked into each other’s eyes, and nodded. “You got it, Terry,” Steve said, still looking only at Ghost.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” Terry asked. “Now, I can see the whole picture…like one of those 3-D things…it finally came clear to me. Why? Did y’all always plan it this way?”

Steve was shaking his head. “Terry, we didn’t plan anything; it just happened, and it still does. We can’t explain it. The songs we write, they just come from somewhere…we just write what’s in our hearts. The cover songs, we just play what we like, because they make us feel something inside. That’s all. The only thing planned, is which ones we want to play in our show. It’s different every time.”

Terry took a deep breath, thinking. “Does everyone know this…was I the last one to figure it out?”

Ghost laughed, “Nobody’s ever told us before…just you, Terry. I think Kinsey figured it out, awhile ago, but he never said anything. So, are you happy you know stuff, now? Are you still gonna play on our songs, ’cause we still need you to.”

“I’m glad you know,” Steve said, “but it’s just between us.”

“What about R. J….does he know?” Terry asked.

“Terry, R. J. is off in his own world, when we play. If he knows, he’s never said anything, either,” Steve laughed.

“”What now, Steve?” Ghost asked. “Are we gonna do any more today?”

“I think we’ve all done enough for now. Now that we’ve gotten this going, I would like to come in with everyone, maybe in a day or two. How’s that sound, Terry?”

“Yeah, whenever you want to. I’ll get a few things ready, before then,” Terry agreed.

“You gonna be okay, now” Ghost asked.

“I think so, Ghost…more than okay,” Terry smiled, then turned to turn off the equipment.

~

They made their way out, and said their good-byes. On the way home, Ghost was quiet. Steve kept looking over at him, waiting for him to say something. It wasn’t like Ghost to keep things in, for very long. But, he just kept looking out the car window at the stars. Steve wished he could read Ghost’s mind, as something was definitely going on in there.

“Ya want to just keep driving around,” Steve finally asked.

Ghost looked over at him, “Yeah, I’m not through thinking, yet.”

Steve sighed, “Okay, will you talk to me about it?”

“Yeah,” Ghost said, but didn’t say anything else.

Steve drove around town, but most everything had closed up for the night. Then he headed out on the highway, for awhile, then back toward town.

“Steve, can we stop somewhere?”

Steve nodded, then pulled over at the next safe place, off the side of the road, cutting off the engine. Ghost got out and stretched, then walked around a bit, looking around at the darkened landscape.

Steve leaned up against the side of the car, letting the heat from the car’s hood warm him. He waited, just watching Ghost. After a few minutes, Ghost came and climbed up on the hood of the car, leaning back against the windshield. Steve wanted to say something, but knew if he did, it would distract Ghost, and he’d have to start over. So, he waited, still.

“You know what?” Ghost asked, then, as he looked up into the night sky. “Terry was so sad.”

“What do you mean? He was in a good mood, when we left.”

“I know, but before that, I heard what he was thinking. He was happy for us, but sad for him, because he doesn’t have somebody to love…and he thinks he never will.” Ghost said. “I wish we could help him, ya know, maybe find somebody, so he’ll be happy.”

“I don’t know about that, Ghost. He’s been a bachelor all these years, and he has fun going out with lots of chicks. Maybe he’ll find the right one some day.”

“Yeah, I hope so, but he never goes anywhere, though. It’s always the same people he hangs out with all the time. Maybe he’d find somebody, if he went places.” Ghost said. Sitting up now, and getting excited, Ghost said, “Hey I know…let’s give him a vacation to somewhere. Do ya think he’d like that?”

Steve smiled, at that idea. “Well, maybe you’re on to something, there. I never thought of it before, but, yeah, maybe we could. Let’s think on it some more. We’d have to figure out some stuff, like where or when and how to do it, first.” He was warming to the idea.

“Good, let’s do that,” Ghost said. “I’m ready to go home, now.” He jumped down from the car’s hood. Starting up the car, they headed home, this time with the radio on, so they could sing along.

This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.

All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative license is taken in including them in this story.

No harm is intended toward author, musicians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblance.

warning warning warning warning

The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.

Ghost was frowning, as he read the instructions the woman in the little shop had written out for him. This was how he would be able to protect them from the bad spirits in the murder house, when they did the seance. He read the words out loud, but kept stopping. Sighing, he would start over.

“What’s the matter, Ghost?” Steve asked.

“I can’t understand these rules. Here, you read them, and see if they make any sense to you,” Ghost said, handing the paper to Steve.

Steve read over the page. It was a fairly long list of steps that needed to be done, in order. “There’s a lot of things you’re supposed to do, but it seems pretty clear, Ghost. What’s…” he read it over, again. “Oh, now I see what the problem is,” he said. He looked up at Ghost, who was waiting, in hopes Steve could explain it to him. He was hesitant to say what was wrong, though.

The list had so many numbers in it. The steps to take were numbered, in the order they should be done; there were measurements of the ingredients, that had to be added, in certain places, as specific words were said, and even numbers to go along with the chants, such as, say this three times, and on this word, add two drops of this oil. On and on, the list continued this way.

This will be impossible for Ghost to do…I doubt it would work if anyone other than Ghost tried it…

“What does it say, Steve? Why can’t I read it?” Ghost was getting worried that Steve was taking so long to explain.

Steve shook his head. “Look, Ghost…this thing has numbers all in it, almost every line. I’m sorry, maybe we should have asked for a different kind of rule book.”

“What…why? Why did she write it like that, Steve?” He was devastated. Blinking back the tears that sprang to his eyes, he hung his head. “I just wanted to help…now I can’t do it…” His tears fell down his face, as he cried, now. “I can’t even read the paper…”

He banged his fists into the sides of his head, hard. “Why do I have to be like this, Steve? I hate it…I hate it.”

Steve was crying now, too, for the pain Ghost was feeling. He wanted to go to him, but his cast prevented him from getting down on the floor. “Come here…come here to me, babe,” Steve said.

Ghost crawled over, putting his head in Steve’s lap. He heaved with sobs. Steve stroked Ghost’s silky hair, over and over, then drew him up to be on the couch, beside him. Taking him in his arms, they rocked back and forth for a long while.

“Ghost, look at me,” Steve said, raising Ghost’s face to look into his eyes. “I’m so sorry…I would take all of your pain to myself, if I could. But, don’t be hating on yourself…please. It kills me to see you hurting. We’ll figure this out, ok? I’ll help, I’ll re-write these rules so you can read them. I promise it’ll work out.”

Ghost nodded, “You’d do that?”

“Yes,” Steve said, then brushed back Ghost’s damp hair, wiping the tears away. He gently touched Ghost’s lips, then kissed him. “I love you so much…I never want to see you sad.”

“I love you, too, Steve” He hugged Steve tight.

“Okay…now, go get me some paper, and one of your markers. I’m going to fix this, right now.”

Ghost did, and they sat together on the couch, as Steve read aloud the steps, and instead of the numbers, he drew little pictures of them. He showed Ghost how it worked, now, and Ghost understood every instruction.

“I get it, now, Steve…I can do this.”

“Sure ya can,” Steve said. They were both smiling, now.

Ghost read it aloud, several times, until he thought he’d memorized it. Giving the paper to Steve, he recited the rules exactly.

“Now what?” Steve asked.

“Guess we tell Zach and Trevor that we’re ready whenever they are.”

Steve took a deep breath…”Ghost, aren’t you scared to actually do this? Up until now, it just seemed like a game, or something fun to do, but now, it’s more real…like real. What if there really is evil in that house, and bad things start to happen?”

“Well,” Ghost thought a minute, “I kinda am scared. I mean, not of spirits, but I never saw an evil one, before.”

“And, you trust this protection stuff the lady gave you?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, guess I have to…and believe it’s gonna work.”

“I still wish you wouldn’t mess around with this stuff. I know I’m scared to even go in that house,” Steve said.

“Yeah, me too, but they asked for our help, and they’re scared, too…and they live there. They trust me to help, or at least try,” Ghost said. He began gathering up the bottles and packets from the table.

“We’ll let them know,” Steve said. “Are you up to going to Terry’s studio, like we planned?”

“Oh, I forgot about that,” Ghost said. “Guess we could. He’s probably fixin’ to close the shop, now, and besides, we said we’d be there.”

“Okay, help me up,” Steve said. “We’ll get on the road.”

“Are we gonna sing in the little booth when we get there?”

“Well, I want to try and get something recorded…at least get back into practice, remember how to do it, and all. So, yeah, if Terry’s ok with it.”

~

They arrived at the record shop, and Steve pulled into the back parking lot. Terry was just coming out the back door, and waved them over. “Hey, guys, you’re right on time. Let me get the studio door unlocked, and we can get started,” he said.

He’d added more recording equipment over the past year or so, and he showed them around, explaining how much easier and better sounding their CD would be, since making the tape. “Do ya have something ya want to try, now?” Terry asked.

“Yeah, we can start with us just singing some, today, to get back into it. Did you go over the pages I gave you?” Steve asked.

Terry nodded, “Sure did, and I went over my parts a few times. R. J. said he did, too, so once we all get in here together, it’ll go pretty smooth.”

” Guess we’ll just warm up first, just this and that, see how it goes,” Steve said. He rounded up Ghost, and they went into the booth. Terry began turning on all the recording equipment, getting set up.

“What are we doing, Steve?” Ghost asked.

“Let’s just do one or two, no music…to get warmed up.”

“Okay, tell me when,” Ghost smiled.

Steve nodded to Terry, and he cued them with a five countdown. At the precise moment, Steve and Ghost started singing their parts. It was *”Amie”, one of the oldest songs they did. Even just practicing, and no music, Terry couldn’t quit smiling at how good they sounded. He made a few adjustments on his sound board, and when the song was done, he played it back. They were all amazed at how good it sounded, with the new equipment.

“Hey, y’all, that could be used just as it is,” Terry said. “We’ll do it all together, and then with the music, but this, I’m gonna keep.”

They played around with a few more songs, then Steve asked Ghost if he wanted to try one of their new ones, *”Perfect”, which Steve had done for Ghost, while they were on the road.

This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.

All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative license is taken in including them in this story.

No harm is intended toward author, musicians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblance.

warning warning warning warning

The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.

As Steve made his way into the shop, he could hear some kind of tinkling music playing. He found Ghost over by a free-standing waterfall. There was a fine mist swirling around it. “Ghost, what kind of place is this? It reminds me of that…that…God, that horrible Arkady’s place, and…” he couldn’t voice, out loud, the tragedy of Ann’s death in that place.

Ghost searched Steve’s eyes, knowing exactly what he felt. “Oh, Steve…I know…” he said, giving him a hug. He looked around at all the brightly colored displays. “This place, though, is not like that. I can feel the good in here,” he said.” He grinned, turning around to see more. “You know what? I could live here.” He was entranced by the assault on his senses.

Steve had to laugh. “I imagine you could, Ghost.”

A woman came out from a back room, to talk to them. She was exotic looking, wearing a sari, and lots of jangly bracelets. She studied Ghost for a minute, then said, “You are in need of something magical…something powerful to drive away evil spirits.”

“Yes…” Ghost nodded and smiled at her.

She asked them to follow her into another part of the store. Ghost was right behind her, but Steve hesitated. “Ghost,” he whispered, “I don’t know about this.”

“It’s okay, Steve…she’s psychic…she read my mind, already.”

“Well, that’s another first for you, today.”

“Yeah, it felt weird, too. Does it feel weird when I read yours?”

“No, because I never know when you’re gonna do it, but then after it kinda does.”

Ghost giggled at that. “C’mon, let’s see what’s back there.”

The back room was filled with more oddities, arranged haphazardly from floor to ceiling. From the beaded partition at the doorway, to the multi-color scarves that were draped over a small window, they just stood there gawking. There on one shelf, were hand-carved, wooden tribal masks, and hanging from a raw, wood paneled wall, were crosses, and amulets, made from leather, gold, and gems.

But, what caught Ghost’s eyes, was the large shelf of little bottles, and boxes. “Potions!” he closed his eyes, inhaling the heady fragrance of his childhood. “Mmm,” he sighed.

Steve thought he looked like the proverbial kid in a candy store, albeit a weird kid in a weird potion store.

The lady had Ghost sit at an intricately detailed, teak table. She sat on the other side. She reached out for Ghost’s hands, rubbing them until they warmed. “You have the gift, child,” she began. Ghost nodded, his eyes wide, taking in everything she said.

“You are coming upon a serious endeavor, soon. You will need protection from those who oppose you.”

Ghost started to tell her what he had planned, but she held up her hand to stop him. “I do not need to know the details, but, I sense it will be difficult to do what you are called on to do.” She paused for a moment, concentrating. “The evil forces are powerful…malevolent…they have been unopposed for many years. At stake are two lives, two innocents. You, and your friend here, are being drawn into their circle of control.” She closed her eyes, for a long minute, taking deep breaths.

Ghost was mesmerized. Steve was watching intently, from the side of the room, interested, in spite of himself.

Opening her eyes, she brought out from a drawer in the table, an assortment of items. First, was a small mortar and pestle, of white marble. Three candles were next. She explained that the white one was for cleansing, purity, and truth. The black one was used in spell breaking, and for banishing evil, while the purple candle gave the user power, protection, and repelled evil. Then she drew out a small, silver cross, on a chain, laying it next to the candles.

She then scraped back her stool, to go to the potions shelf. Her bracelets jingled, as she searched for the packets and vials she was looking for. Ghost looked over at Steve, raising his eyebrows. Neither said a word, not wanting to break into the lady’s concentration.

Back at the table, she placed a paper packet there, along with a couple of sage brooms. The packet was labeled ‘black powder’ in old fashioned script. Along with these, she added two vials of essential oils, and a stoppered, glass bottle of some kind of spices and leaves, mixed together.

“Here is what you must use at your séance,” she told Ghost. Writing on a piece of onionskin stationery, she listed the instructions, the amounts of each item that was needed, and in what order to use them. “Also, I’ve written a few words…a chant…that you must speak, to evoke the spirits. But, be very careful, Ghost. You must keep a positive mind throughout the ceremony. This is your protection, and the means to banish the evil from within those walls. One more thing,” she said, reaching into the drawer again. “I don’t usually give this to anyone, as it is to be used as a fail-safe, a last resort…” She placed another small bottle on the table. It was iridescent glass, and was heart shaped. “In here is holy water…it has been blessed…to be used sparingly, if at all…if it is truly needed.”

Ghost nodded his understanding of her words. She then wrapped up all the items in a brown paper bundle, tying it with jute. “Now, let us return to the sales floor.” Ghost took the bundle, and they all went out of the little room.

“Will there be anything else you’d like to purchase, Ghost Child?”

Steve startled at the woman’s usage of Ghost’s name, and the way Ghost’s grandmother always said it. They’d never mentioned their names, when they’d come into the shop.

She smiled, and said, “I wish you well in your trials to come, Ghost. Peace be with you.”

Steve paid for the bundle of goods, and he and Ghost left the shop. “That was one weird lady,” he said, as they got back into the car.

As they drove back to Missing Mile, Ghost held tight to the bundle, twirling the ends of the jute around his fingers. Steve saw that he was lost in thought. “So when are you doing this?” he asked.

“Soon…soon as I go over the instructions, and memorize them,” Ghost said.

~

Back at home, Ghost took everything out to look at them, again. He began reading over the instructions. Steve made himself comfortable on the couch, propping up his achy leg, onto a pillow, on the coffee table. He didn’t say anything, as he watched Ghost, but he was thinking about how serious Ghost was taking all this…and how much he loved him, and his quirky ways. He said a silent prayer, that this mission Ghost had set in motion, wouldn’t hurt him, and that he, himself could remain vigilant to Ghost’s vulnerability and well-being, no matter what happened.

This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.

All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative license is taken in including them in this story.

No harm is intended toward author, musicians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblance.

warning warning warning warning

The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.

The next morning, they got ready to drive to Raleigh fairly early. “Let’s just get something for breakfast at the little store, to go…we’ll eat in the car, on the way,” Steve said.

It was another sunny day, with only a slight chill in the air, and they enjoyed the ride, as they munched on doughnuts, and drank their coffee. They arrived in the city, going first to the bank, then drove around until they found the printing company. It was a fairly small business, and they were the only customers there, this early in the morning.

Ghost pulled out the pages he’d made for the book, putting them on the counter.

“We want this made into a real book,” Steve said. He explained how they wanted the pages and writing to look, just the way Ghost had them arranged.

“How many copies?” the clerk asked.

Steve looked over at Ghost, “How many do you think we’ll need? We’ll want one for us, then some to sell at the gig, right?”

Ghost nodded, “Yeah, I want to do that.”

Steve turned back to the clerk, “Well, let’s start with fifty. We can get more made, if we need to, I suppose.”

The clerk looked doubtful that they would be able to even pay for one, much less fifty, but he quoted them a price, anyway.

“Ok, sure, do the fifty. When will they be ready?” Steve asked.

“We’ll have them ready in a week,” the clerk said. “We’ll need half the payment now, then the rest when you pick them up.”

Steve wasn’t sure if this was normal procedure or not, but he pulled out his wallet.

“Steve, that guy thinks we can’t pay for them. I heard him thinking that we’re too poor to afford to get the books made.”

“Oh, yeah?” Steve looked back toward the clerk. “Well, I’ll just pay him right now, then, for the whole order…then he won’t have anything to say about it.”

He went back to the counter. “I think we’ll just go ahead and pay you for the whole order, right now, if that’s okay…before you do the j0b?”

The clerk looked a bit surprised, but said, “Sure, that will be fine.” He did a double-take, as Steve pulled out the cash, counting out the full amount.

“Will that do it?” Steve asked

“Yes, sir, sure will,” the clerk said. “You can pick them up a week from today.”

Steve smiled at Ghost, as they went out the door. “Thanks, Ghost. That went better than I thought. It took all my effort not to smack him. It’s hard being polite.”

Ghost patted Steve on the back, and laughed, “You did good, Sir.”

“Yeah, I’m sure glad we stopped at the bank first, though.”

Next up on their trip to town, was the thrift shop. “From big spenders, to bargain hunters, all in one day,” Steve said, as they went into the store.

“What’cha looking for this time?” Ghost asked.

“Guess I’ll know it when I see it,” Steve said, as they split up to go looking around.

Ghost wandered up and down the aisles, stopping at whatever caught his eye. He found a couple of toys, for the cat to play with, and a dish to put his food in. He also found a hat he could use for his Halloween costume, along with a fishing vest. Then he went looking for Steve.

“Hey, look what I got,” he said, showing Steve.

“Cool, those will work fine, Ghost. I just found some shirts, so far.” He held up a couple. They were both black…one with the logo of a local radio station, the other a vintage rock band tour shirt.

“Uh, Steve…do ya think ya have enough black t-shirts, already?”

“What…you don’t like them?”

“Oh, sure I do, Steve,” Ghost said, shaking his head.

“Well, then, shut up about it,” Steve said.

Ghost rolled his eyes, then went wandering around the store, again. Eventually, Steve was finished, and he found Ghost sitting on a chair in the furniture section of the store.

“Well, I can’t believe it…you finally had enough time to look at everything, and wear your own self out,” Steve laughed. “It must be the first time.”

“Yeah, guess so,” Ghost said. He yawned and stretched, as he got up from the old recliner. “This time you were taking forever.”

At the pizza place they’d stopped to eat at, Ghost was unusually quiet.

“What’s bugging you?” Steve asked.

Ghost shrugged. “Just thinking about stuff…about the murder house, and what to do about it.”

Steve frowned. “Maybe you should just forget it, and tell them you can’t do it.”

“No, I want to do it…I just need to think how,” Ghost said.

“Well, you know my opinion on the matter, so I’ll shut up about it, then,” Steve said. He finished up the pizza, and they walked back to the car.

“You ready to head home? My leg is aching now, from being up so long,” Steve said.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Ghost said, getting in the car.

Steve drove a few blocks, trying to get back to the main highway, but got turned around, going the wrong way.

“Steve, stop!” Ghost hollered. He pointed to a small store, wedged between a coffee shop and a beauty salon.

“What is it? I can’t stop in the middle of the road,” Steve said, but he did slow down.

“Well, go around and park somewhere. I saw a store I want to go in,” Ghost said.

Steve did find a parking spot, close to the little shop. Ghost jumped out and headed down the sidewalk. “C’mon, Steve,” he said. He was walking fast, leaving Steve to catch up on his own.

“Wait up,” Steve yelled, but Ghost had already gone inside. As he came closer, Steve could see that the shop was an odd looking place. It wasn’t big, but was crammed full of all kinds of colorful items. He just stood at the entrance for a minute, taking in the kaleidoscopic effect. This must be what the inside of Ghost’s head looks like…. Ghost’s room at home was mild, compared to this place; and from what he could tell, by watching Ghost looking around, a smile on his face, it was like Ghost had found his true home.

He took a deep breath, before he tackled walking down the narrow aisles, hoping his crutches wouldn’t knock anything over. Then, he almost choked on the heavy incense smoke. This reminds me of something…something bad… He began flashing back to Arkady’s creepy shop, down in New Orleans…the horror of Ann’s death, and the vampires…

This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.

All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative license is taken in including them in this story.

No harm is intended toward author, musicians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblance.

warning warning warning warning

The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.